


For Roger, Whenever I May Find Him

by all_of_the_trash



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, If you couldn't tell from the title, M/M, Soulmate AU kinda, Tim Is Doing His Best, Trans Male Character, brian is a bitch and i like him so much, first chapter is a songfic if you squint, freddie is gay and awkward, gratuitous simon and garfunkel, hey look who's not on mobile and can add real tags now, no but seriously freddie is so awkward somebody help him, roger is... me tbh, yeet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2019-08-25 05:14:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16654897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/all_of_the_trash/pseuds/all_of_the_trash
Summary: Freddie gets a little more than he bargained for when he brings home a stray cat.c. 1968, but a version of 1968 that's far less racist/homophobic/transphobic. So like, aesthetically 1968.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> https://youtu.be/WaWrdwP1YH0
> 
> I never liked this song as a kid, but it's grown on me. Add the song to this stupid supernatural Froger au I had knocking around in my head and some encouragement to write more transmasc!Roger (you know who you are, thank you), and you've got this fic.
> 
> Spot the Saw reference and gain my undying love!

_ What a dream I had! _

Freddie hummed softly as he strolled back to his apartment, occasionally filling in lyrics without stopping to think of what they were. Simon and Garfunkel, probably.

_ Softer than the rain… _

Yes, that sounded right. Huh. Fitting for his current situation.

_ “I wandered empty streets, down past the shop displays; I heard cathedral bells dripping down the alleyways...” _

No cathedral bells to speak of, but Freddie did find himself startled by a rustling noise near his feet followed by the unmistakable sound of a cat chattering.

“Come out sweetheart,” he whispered as he crouched. He was rewarded with a small chirp. “You can trust me, come on. I'm Freddie- well, my friends call me Freddie- my name's Farrokh, you're a cat. What am I saying. I love cats- I'll shut up now.” With more coaxing, Freddie noticed that an overturned cardboard box seemed to be the source of the noise.

“ _ And when you ran to me, your cheeks flushed with the night… _ ” Freddie scratched at the box as he continued singing, feeling tiny paws thump against his fingertips through the cardboard. “ _ We walked on frosted fields of juniper and lamplight… _ ”

A small sand-colored paw appeared from beneath the box. Freddie gasped in delight, and may have actually squealed when a body followed. The cat had adult proportions, but could not have been much more than six pounds. But the thing that struck him most was its wide, impossibly bright blue eyes. He could have sworn they were almost human from their color and expression.

The kitten looked up at Freddie innocently and squeaked. Freddie blinked slowly and waited for the blink to be returned before extending his hands.

“Come here, darling. Let's get you home.”

He couldn't hold in his giggle when the cat tripped over its own front feet, instinctively reaching to cover his mouth before realizing no one was watching. “What a lovely, nonjudgmental animal you are,” he whispered to it as he picked it up. “I think I'll call you… Liz. You look like a Liz to me.” Pressing a kiss to the kitten's forehead, Freddie stood up and continued on his way towards home.

...

_ And when I awoke and felt you warm and near, I kissed your honey hair with my grateful tears… _

The beginnings of sunlight, or as close as London got to sunlight anyway, began to stream in through the bedroom window. Drowsily, Freddie stretched an arm across the bed and was met with a pleasantly warm torso. He smiled as his bedfellow stirred, tracing over the gentle slope of his ribcage with light fingertips. “Good morning,” he started to whisper before the situation caught up with him.

It was morning.

There was a naked man in his bed.

He'd come home alone last night.

Then who-

Making a hasty and possibly stupid decision, Freddie opened his eyes and looked up, screaming when he met a perfect stranger's wide blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally don't like the way this is written just yet, but I promise It will get better and smoother once the plot gets going. Come kick my ass on tumblr @nobutseriouslywhat
> 
> Yes, there really is a Saw reference in here. I'm gay and stupid what would you expect. Fight me.


	2. Chapter 2

"Where am I? And who the FUCK are you?”

“I wouldn't mind knowing the same of you, if you don't mind!” Freddie sputtered. “How did you get into my apartment?”

“I'd tell you if I knew!” the stranger shouted, though he seemed more anxious than angry. “I don't remember a damned thing from last night. Fuck, where are we? Who are you? What happened to my clothes?”

“Hey,” Freddie lowered his voice as he stood up and approached the stranger, who had fallen to the floor and was covering his body defensively with a blanket. When he flinched, Freddie sat a few paces away before continuing. “We're at my apartment in Middlesex. I don't know how you got here or where your clothes are, but you're welcome to borrow some of mine while we figure this out. What's your name?”

A moment passed as the stranger seemed to process the situation. “Roger,” he finally squeaked out.

“Alright. Roger. What's the last thing you remember?”

His eyes flitted back and forth. “I- leaving school. Waiting for Brian- oh GOD.” Panic immediately overtook his entire body. “Can I use your phone?”

Freddie nodded and pointed in the direction of his phone, then decided it was only polite to offer Roger his robe, seeing how defensive he was of his body. He heard a quick “thanks” as he turned his back on the blond, then listened for his bedroom door opening before turning back around.

He hadn't set out with the intention of eavesdropping, but Roger did leave the door open. Freddie heard a soft “Brian?” before all hell broke loose on the other end of the line.

“ROGER MEDDOWS TAYLOR, YOU HAVE TEN SECONDS TO EXPLAIN WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH YOU BEFORE I HUNT YOU DOWN AND BREAK EVERY BONE IN YOUR BODY.” It was really kind of impressive that the guy- Brian, he supposed, was clear and loud enough for Freddie to understand over the phone from a room away. He didn't want to intrude, but on the other hand, he was filled with a strong desire to hug Roger. Pushing past his conscience for the second time that day, Freddie followed the noise to find the smaller boy.

“Do you realize you've had me scared to death? I come out of class to look for you and find that you've left behind not only your car but all your clothes and are nowhere to be found? God's sakes, Taylor, next time you pick up a random shag on the street at least have the decency to come back to me!” Brian continued snarling, and Roger simply took it, looking paralyzed in shame. Freddie, confused but not utterly heartless, took the receiver in one hand and wrapped an arm around Roger's shoulders.

“Brian, I presume?” he began, immediately thinking of all the better ways he could have begun.

“And who precisely are you? Roger's new fucktoy?”

Freddie flinched internally and felt Roger cringe. Rubbing circles into the boy's arm, he tried his best to level his voice before answering. “My name is Freddie Bulsara. Roger woke up in my apartment this morning, and neither of us has any idea how he got here, so if you'd kindly stop riding his arse we'd both appreciate it.”

Surprisingly, there was a pause followed by a soft sigh on the other end. “I'm sorry. Where are you now?” After getting Freddie's address, Brian's voice came back more measured. “Alright. Thanks. I'm coming to pick him up-”

“After staying up all night?” Said a woman's voice on Brian's end, muffled by distance but still completely understandable. “Like hell I'm letting you drive anywhere!”

Another pause, this one somehow more awkward than the last. “Let Roger know my mum's coming by to pick him up.”

“Of course,” Freddie muttered before hanging the receiver back in its cradle and relaying the message to Roger, who was wiping a few tears away from his eyes. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Fine,” Roger choked out. “Brian just worries a lot. I know it's because he loves me, but he can be scary when he's scared.”

Cursing himself for opening his mouth at a time like this, Freddie found himself asking, “so who is Brian to you? A boyfriend? Husband?”

Roger giggled, and fuck if that wasn't the cutest thing he'd heard all week. “God, no. He's so fucking straight. Just my roommate.”

“Cool,” Freddie responded dumbly. Cool? Seriously? Out of everything he could have possibly said, he went with ‘cool’? “Um, shit, if you're leaving I should lend you some clothes. Lucky we're the same size, right?”

“Right,” Roger said through a warm smile that may or may not have made Freddie's heart flutter. Fuck. “Thanks, Farrokh.”

The first thing to strike him was how odd and foreign his own name sounded on the Brit's tongue. The second made him turn around and face Roger fully.

“How did you know my name?”

Roger blinked confusedly. “Didn't you say it?”

“No dear, I'm certain. I never tell people my birth name if I can help it. Didn't I introduce myself as Freddie?”

“You did but-” Roger shook his head. “When you said that it jogged some memory. Like I could swear I remember you introducing yourself as Farrokh.” He chuckled bitterly as he accepted a shirt from Freddie. “The first thing I remember since last night, and it confuses the hell outta both of us. Great.” He looked up and smiled, prompting Freddie to cover his mouth as he knew he would return it. “Thanks anyway.”

Freddie just walked into the next room and closed the door behind him in response. Once the door was safely latched, he covered his face in both hands and slid to the ground as a smile spread across his whole body. Dammit, he didn't want a crush right now, but Roger was so inhumanly cute that he could fall in love if he wasn't careful.

Amidst the rustling of fabric, Freddie heard a soft voice through the door that completely floored him- high and raspy, bobbing and weaving between melody and harmony lines without pause.

“ _ Homeward bound, I wish I was homeward bound… Home, where my thoughts escape me! Home, where my music's playing! Home, where my love life's waiting silently for me… _ ”

Well fuck. So much for being careful.

Fuck Roger Taylor and his adorable round face and big blue eyes and fluffy blond hair and soft warm skin. Fuck his smile and giggle and angelic voice. Fuck the way he walked out of Freddie's room looking way too good in a tight t-shirt and cuffed jeans that still dragged on the ground. Most of all, fuck the way he whispered his last quick “thank you” before briefly kissing Freddie's cheek and running off to the car, beaming and shouting out “good morning, Ruth!”, leaving Freddie alone and buzzing from the encounter.

Shit.

_ Silently for me... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> better? I think so.
> 
> nobutseriouslywhat.tumblr.com please come yell at me


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some plot happens.
> 
> I saw BoRhap today! I have feelings.

"Hey Freddie? Can I bother you for a huge favor?”

Freddie set down his charcoal and looked up, batting his eyelashes. “Yes darling?”

Craig flopped down onto the floor next to Freddie's chair and rested his chin on the boy's knee. “I had plans to see a band across town but the guys I was going with all cancelled. I'd go by myself but, well, it's at Imperial and the science majors scare me.”

He sighed to show he'd lost the battle, but with a smile to show he was never really fighting. “When are we going?”

“Tonight,” Craig grinned. “You know, I'm no expert, but I have noticed some attractive guys follow this band. Myself included,” he punctuated that last bit with a wink. Freddie laughed and shoved him away. “I'm just saying! You never know who you could meet there.”

Freddie rolled his eyes fondly. “You've already convinced me, now get out. Let me finish sketching.”

It was a nice thought, he supposed. Meeting someone. Everything in England was still so terribly new that he found himself desperate for friends that could help him figure it all out. And if they really were attractive men as Craig had said, he wouldn't mind being more than friends with one. Even if someone he'd met weeks ago evidently wasn't getting off his mind any time soon.

Freddie gave up the charcoal in frustration and looked at the proof of his loneliness. It was intended to be an exercise in his memory, to see if he really could passably sketch Paul McCartney without a reference. He liked drawing Paul with his neat hair and round face and large, innocent eyes. Unfortunately he had drifted into another mental reference- the hair too thick and wild, the jaw still soft but too pointed, the eyes still wide and bright yet too far apart. In letting his mind wander he'd turned to drawing Roger.

He really needed to get out more.

...

“Freddie if you're too distracted by the posters to notice the band, I swear to god.”

“They're poorly designed!” Freddie defended himself. Damn Imperial College. No one there even had any semblance of style, as evidenced by the nasty looks he was getting. Well. Not his fault the room full of physics majors had a stick up their collective arse (and not even in the fun way). It was a warm night, he felt good, he was not changing out of the fucking skirt. He could see Craig about to retort when they were both snapped out of the moment by the sound of a bass tuning and a mic crackling.

Their songs were interesting enough, Freddie supposed. When he could hear the lyrics over the soft slur of the bassist-slash-frontman's gentle voice. “That's Tim,” Craig whispered in his ear. “Got a great voice, doesn't he?”

“I guess.”

“The one you really gotta listen for is Roger though. Wait until they play April Lady, you'll hear him on the high notes. Swear to god the boy sounds like a guitar when he gets going- well, speak of the devil.” Tim finished as a new song, April Lady probably, began. Freddie did his best to focus on that and not the way his heart had thumped abruptly against his ribs when he heard the name.

It was stupid. There must be at least a hundred blokes named Roger around London. There was no reason to get worked up over a damn name, or believe that after a month he was just going to show up in his life again. Freddie might as well have been looking for that fucking cat- which, as it happens, had managed to escape from his apartment over the course of that night. Probably the same way Roger had gotten in, which he'd never managed to figure out. And never would. And he'd just have to be okay with that.

Fuck.

April Lady must have been the end of the set. Tim pulled Freddie close to him, whispering “let's introduce you to Tim, right?” as he dragged him forward.

Not right. Tim apparently had an exam or something early the next morning, and had run off immediately after packing his bass. Freddie overheard this information from the tall man who cradled a red electric guitar as he shot the breeze with Craig.

“You said you'd seen us before? Cool, nice to know we can keep people coming back. I'm Brian, by the way. I play the guitar.”

“Would never have guessed,” Freddie muttered under his breath. Still, something tugged at the corner of his mind. Common names as they may be, the odds of a band having members named Roger AND Brian…

“Well of course I couldn't come alone either, Fred, get your arse over here.”

Freddie was pulled away from the sidelines of the conversation abruptly. However, since he wasn't completely rude, he did offer his hand with a “hi, Freddie Buls-”

“You're Freddie Bulsara.” Brian cut him off, agape. Before he could react, Freddie found himself pulled into a tight hug by the lanky man. It was awkward- at over 6 feet the man couldn't have been 8 stone soaking wet. In addition the guitar pressed into his hips from the tightness of the embrace, making him worry for the instrument's safety as he felt possible bruises bloom on his hipbones.

“Thank you. Oh God, thank you. You have no idea,” Brian whispered into Freddie's hair before releasing his grip and sliding his hands to the shorter man's shoulders.

Awkwardly, Freddie finally managed to speak from under the guitarist's gaze. “Not to be rude, but how do you know me? What did I do to earn your thanks?”

Brian blushed and looked away for a second before dragging his thumbs across Freddie's shoulders and turning to Craig. “Can you give us a moment?”

Craig nodded and walked off behind Brian, giving Freddie a smile and a thumbs up from over the guitarist's shoulder. Freddie elected to ignore this.

“I'm sorry if I startled you. But about a month ago, my best friend went missing one night and he wound up in-” Brian took a deep breath. “I think you may have saved Roger's life that night.”

Realization dawned on Freddie. “You're  _ that _ Brian, of course. I thought your voice sounded familiar.”

Brian immediately blushed deeply. “You have to understand how worried I was. Roger- he's like the little brother I never had. I was so sure some sick fuck had-”

Freddie lay his hand over Brian's larger one which was resting on his shoulder and squeezed it gently, hoping to prevent the tears crowding the taller man's eyes from falling. This worked for all but one, which dripped down slowly as his voice dropped and levelled. “I thought he'd been killed. Without you, he might've been.”

“Hey, give him some credit,” Freddie joked to lighten the mood. “Kid's got a lot of fight in him. Maybe not as much as you do when you need to protect him, but more than you'd guess by looking at him.”

“That he does,” Brian beamed. “Unfortunately everything he's got in heart comes out of what he's missing in brains and impulse control. I love him to death though.”

“He's sweet,” Freddie giggled, instinctively reaching up to cover his mouth. When he noticed Brian looking at the ground instead of him, he shifted his fingers to brush over the spot Roger had kissed weeks earlier. A tingle spread across his face at the memory. “I'm glad to have met him,” he finally managed.

“Why don't you tell him?” Brian smiled. “Roger, get over here!”

A mop of dirty blond hair barreled into Brian's side a second later. “Whaddya want?” said a muffled yet easily recognizable (and quite adorable) voice from its direction.

“Someone's here to see you and I need to pack up. Go. Be social.”

As Brian pushed away, Roger followed him with his gaze, turning his back on Freddie. “You love that guitar more than you love me!” he called, but there was no venom in his words.

“That's because Red's never given me a heart attack!”

Roger giggled at him as he turned back, and Freddie was floored. It was like a movie the way Roger's giddy smile fell and was replaced with wide-eyed awe as recognition dawned on him. Somehow he was even more beautiful than Freddie had remembered, and the sight was taking his breath away.

“Hi,” Roger finally managed, with a softness that was almost reverent.

A smile tugged at the corners of Freddie's mouth, and he was too preoccupied with the angel in front of him to give into the instinct to cover it. “Hi yourself.”

Seeming suddenly uncomfortable, Roger's eyes darted around the room as his fingers fumbled with a button on his blazer. “I need a smoke, care to join me?” Freddie nodded. “Come on.” Roger motioned as if about to take him by the wrist, but decided against it, simply ducking out of the room and watching for Freddie to follow.

Once outside, Roger relaxed noticeably. Freddie wished he could have. Unfortunately, the sight of Roger in all his glory- hair mussed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that shone like stardust under the streetlamp, slumped against the brick wall, and with a cigarette dangling loosely from his soft pink lips- was unbearable. When he exhaled the first drag, the smoke swirling about his face and softening his already ethereal features, it became too much.

He coughed. “Damn things always go right into my face.”

“They say smoke follows beauty,” Freddie mumbled a bit louder than he'd expected, but he couldn't be arsed to care about his volume when Roger blushed deeply and took another harsh drag.

“You're really something, Fred,” Roger sputtered after a few seconds. He dropped the cigarette, though it was barely half done, and ground it out under his heel. “Is it weird to say I've missed you?”

“Do I look like I care what's weird?”

Roger laughed as he followed Freddie's hands with his eyes- his skirt ending just above the knees, tight button-up unbuttoned just enough to show off an expanse of flat, hairy chest. “Point made,” he giggled before tearing his eyes from Freddie's chest and facing the sky. The full moon was bright behind spotty cloud cover, casting a silver glow on everything not touched by the street lamps.

Freddie took a step forward, something burning at his lungs and making his thighs quiver. “Roger,” he choked out, intensifying the feeling. He loved every second of it and needed it to be over right the fuck now.

“Yes?” Those bright blue eyes. Fuck. This was getting harder by the second.

“You kissed me.” It was like a string had snapped at those three words, plunging their little world into an unnatural silence. “Why?”

“I-” Roger paused in shock. “It felt right. I wanted to thank you for being so kind to me. You saw me at my weakest, confused out of my mind and intruding on your life, and yet you helped me. Most people wouldn't have given me the time of day.” A soft breeze found its way down the alley, making Roger shiver. He looked so small, so helpless, when he finally tipped his head forward. “Should I not have?”

That voice was so tiny, so broken, it was nearly inhuman; reminding Freddie more of a cat's mewls than of the bright-eyed, fiery young man who had pulled him into the alley minutes ago. Both sides of Roger were equally captivating, however, and this was the reason he took another step forward into the smaller boy's space and braced his hand against the brick wall next to his face.

“You haven't wronged me,” he whispered. “Just allow me to return the favor and kiss you properly.”

Roger's breath hitched audibly as Freddie leaned forward. It was both adorable and the hottest thing he'd experienced in a long time. The breeze returned, wrapping around the pair and fluttering his skirt. Slowly, he leaned further and further forward, angling toward the soft, inviting warmth of Roger's mouth… until the breeze stopped and his forehead bumped against brick.

“Fuck.” He sighed softly into the night as his eyes opened. “This certainly would explain things.”

Popping out from the collar of Roger's shirt, which was now crumpled to the ground, a blue-eyed kitten with wild sand-colored fur meowed in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so how about that ending huh
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr, @nobutseriouslywhat or my Queen sideblog @letmeouttathischeapbmovie


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freddie finds himself in a predicament. Or several.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *shows up four months later with Starbucks* hey
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter does include an accidental outing toward the end, so proceed with caution. None of this is meanspirited and no one gets hurt, but I still think the warning is necessary.

“Rog, sweetheart, you're going to have to help me find Brian.”

The cat padded over to Freddie's foot and pondered for a moment before untying his shoelace with his teeth.

“You arse.”

Only a high pitched squeak in response. As Freddie knelt to tie his trainer again (ah yes. That was the nagging reason that the skirt had been a bad idea), Roger leapt onto his thigh and crawled from there into his inner jacket pocket.

“You could have just said something!”

Hissing.

“Alright no, I don't suppose you could. My mistake.” Looking into those distinctly human eyes, Freddie decided to go out on a limb. “Okay darling, blink once for yes, twice for no. Should we look for him inside?”

One blink. He couldn't resist scratching softly at Roger's chin, feeling a purr rumble in his tiny throat.  _ No. Freddie. Stop. He's too adorable you need to stop. _ Holding his jacket carefully to himself, he stepped back into the now nearly empty hall. “Brian?” He called out into the quiet.

It was Craig who responded, standing up from the corner where he had been chatting up a girl. “Brian's just gone out to his van, where did you go? I thought you guys were getting on.”

“I'll explain tomorrow. Go on without me, alright?” He quickly amended, “did you see which way he went?”

Craig pointed out towards a different back door (how many different back doors could one room have?). Freddie gave him an overly enthusiastic thumbs up, bumping Roger and causing him to squirm in protest. Apologetically, Freddie wrapped his jacket tighter to himself and stroked at the lump of his bulging pocket. Unfortunately his focus on placating the man-turned-kitten meant the next thing he registered was the cat's tortured squeak as he walked straight into Brian's chest.

“Freddie?”

“Help.” Well. That could have come out smoother, but it got the point across at least.

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s Roger?”

“You need to come with me.”

“Oh my god.” Brian's eyes widened comically, and Freddie could almost swear he saw his hair pouf out at the same time, like a hedgehog baring its quills. “Oh my GOD, Freddie what's happened to him? Are you alright? Is he alright? Are you-”

“Brian!” Freddie finally hissed once they were in a secluded hallway, pulling the taller boy down to eye level by his shoulder. “Calm down. Roger's okay. He's just… in my pocket.”

“Your- your pocket?”

Roger chose that exact moment to squeal loudly enough for Brian to hear, prompting Freddie to open his coat. Sniffling and squeaking, the cat peeked his whole head out and gave Brian a soft chirp before going quiet.

“Oh. Fuck.”

“Darling, you have no idea.”

…

Later, Freddie found himself sitting on the worn carpet of Roger and Brian's living room, the former curled up in his lap and the latter slouching yet focused intently from several feet away.

“So this is how you found him last month?”

Freddie only stared in wonder at the sleeping boy. “Yes, lost and hiding. Poor thing was so scared when he woke up.”

Brian brightened visibly at that. “You mean he'll sleep this off?”

“Dear, you now know as much as I do. I believe he will, but…”

He sighed. “Of course.”

A few seconds passed before Brian began again, “It's late, Freddie. And you don't have a ride. Stay the night?”

Freddie stroked over Roger's ears softly. “Are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude-”

“Please,” Brian said firmly. “I'll stay with Roger and you can take my room.” He paused slightly. “I want you to be here when he wakes up.”

Freddie gulped in shock at Brian's warmth. “I will.” As he slid his hands under Roger's body to hand him to Brian, something nagged at his mind. “Brian?”

Brian accepted the cat, meeting Freddie's eyes quizzically. “Yeah?”

“The cat. It's- I know it's Roger, I've seen him turn. But Rog-” Freddie took a deep breath. “Roger's a man, and the cat-”

The taller man sighed. “I think it's best if you ask him yourself. Not my place to say.”

“Of course,” he blushed, feeling like he had just crossed some invisible line and not wishing to cause any more damage. “Goodnight Brian.”

“Goodnight Fred.”

Settled in Brian's room, Freddie let the quiet of the neighborhood and the dim glow of starlight from the window wash over him. He drifted off to sleep, barely registering the creak of the door opening and the slight weight of a cat settling on his ankles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'll (probably) update more frequently now, come yell at me on tumblr @nobutseriouslywhat or @letmeouttathischeapbmovie


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after brings its own set of challenges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warnings: this chapter begins with a mild panic attack, and at the end Roger refers to himself with what was a relatively innocent word in the 60's but may be regarded as a slur now. Proceed with caution.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Roger's harsh whisper pulled Freddie from the edge of sleep into reality. “ _ Shit fuck shit _ .”

The rustling noise combined with the dip in the bed caused by Roger abruptly sitting up then flopping back down on his back was enough to pique Freddie's curiosity, so he opened his eyes and lay on his side propped up by one elbow to see Roger, all but his forearms covered by Brian's throw blanket, hands over his already covered face for additional protection. It was, to put things simply, fucking adorable.

“Brian?” His voice came out unusually timid and muffled. “Whatever happened last night, can we pretend it never did?”

Freddie instinctively reached for Roger's hands, but the boy flinched at even the slightest touch.

“Please don't,” he whispered over what sounded like the beginning of a sob. “I can't handle it.”

“Rog, darling,” Freddie murmured softly, trying to sound as un-Brian-like as possible, “open your eyes. You're okay. It's just me.”

Slowly, Roger pulled the blanket away to reveal his wide-eyed reddened face. “Freddie?”

“Yes, love.”

The words were scarcely out of his mouth before Roger wrapped him up into a crushing hug, pressing his face into the crook of Freddie's neck. Freddie pressed a kiss to his wild golden hair before Roger recoiled, laying stiff as a board flat on his back.

“Why are we in Brian's room?”

“I'm afraid there's no easy way to explain that.”

“Get out.” Roger's gaze didn't waver from a point on the ceiling, body stiff and eyes wide.

“Darling-”

“I said get OUT.” The ferocity in his voice left no room for questions. However, he softened his tone and amended once Freddie was at the door, “don't leave. Just- I can't handle you being in the room right now. Can you just- get Brian?”

“Of course,” Freddie murmured, doing his best to hide his confusion and disappointment before closing the door behind him. Suddenly, he realized he was lost in this place. “Brian?” He whispered harshly to a slightly ajar door across and down the hall. No answer. He knocked, and the knock was enough to swing the door all the way open.

Brian was sprawled in the center of Roger's bed, looking giant and otherworldly compared to his surroundings. One flannel-clad leg hung off the side of the mattress while the other hid under the twisted comforter.

“Brian!”

The giant groaned, but did drop his arm from where it had been resting over his eyes.

“Freddie? Where'd Rog go?”

“He's-” Freddie couldn't carry on after that, dropping next to Brian on the bed and tucking his knees to his chest. “Your room. He needs you.”

Brian pushed the comforter away and scooted toward Freddie, letting one hand hover over his shoulder. “Are you alright?”

Freddie shrugged. “I will be once I know Roger is.”

After a moment, Brian's hand came down to clap Freddie's shoulder lightly. “You're a good man. Stay here, I'll get you in a few minutes.” With that, Freddie was left alone.

Despite being in a strange room on his own, somehow Freddie didn't feel out of place at all. This space was so  _ Roger _ that it almost felt like he was in the room with him. Smiling, Freddie lay back on the soft black sheets and studied the posters on the ceiling and walls. The most prominent, right in the center of the ceiling, was the cover of Revolver. Next to it was a hand-painted Jimi Hendrix, “excuse me while I kiss  ~~ the sky ~~ this guy” written in purple under his face. Several broken drumsticks were taped to the wall, one next to a flyer for a band called “Earth”. Another was near a photo of him with Brian and Tim, Brian pointing the camera towards a mirror to capture all three of them. “Don't forget to Smile! 23-03-68” was written in pen on the weathered edge of the photograph. The final pair were crossed over a Smile poster that also read “DON'T FORGET TO SMILE”, the lettering fading from pink at the top to blue at the bottom.

“You like my walls?”

Freddie startled at Roger's voice, but smiled and stood to face him as he entered. “They're beautiful, how ever did you put it all together?”

Roger shrugged. “Timmy did most of the artwork, but he's most proud of Jimi up there. I suppose that one's my favorite, since Tim painted it, I wrote the caption, and Brian put it up for me.” He leaned into the wall and stroked at the Earth flyer. “Can I tell you a secret about this one?” When Freddie nodded, Roger started giggling softly. “Their guitarist has the BIGGEST crush on Brian. It's fucking adorable.”

“You're kidding!”

“God, I wish I was,” Roger chuckled. “Brian's so damn straight he hasn't noticed. Too bad for Tony though, he's a great guy.”

A quiet fell over the room that was neither easy nor entirely uncomfortable.

“I'm sorry-”

“I'm trans.” Roger blurted out at the same time. After a moment he started again, slower and his voice more level. “I'm transsexual. So I panicked when I woke up because I thought I'd slept with Brian, and you know,” his voice trailed off. “Anyway, he said you were worried about me so. I'm okay. And I'm glad you're here. Even if I have no fucking idea what happened last night.”

Freddie stood up and walked toward him, enveloping him in a hug. “Darling, I'm glad to be here for you no matter the circumstances. I was only worried because I care.”

“But you don't even know me!” Roger grumbled into Freddie's chest. “How could you care?”

He shrugged, but pushed Roger back a step to look into his eyes. “You're right. I don't know you as well as I'd like to. But you know what I do know?” When Roger fidgeted, Freddie stroked his shoulder with a thumb and continued. “Your middle name is Meddows. You're a man, even if you didn't know at first. You're bisexual. You like Jimi Hendrix and the Beatles. You secretly love Simon and Garfunkel, especially when it's me singing. You're extremely sentimental. You love drumming, and you do it so passionately that you break too many sticks. You care deeply about Brian and Tim. You have the face of an angel and the mouth of a sailor. You have the entire sky in your eyes, and the summer sun in your hair.” Freddie moved one hand from Roger's shoulder to his jaw, smirking as he saw his blush grow. “I know you can't look people in the eye when they compliment you, which is a shame because you absolutely deserve all the praise you get.” Roger finally looked up again, hesitating a moment before hugging him tightly and letting out a deep sigh. “And I also happen to know that you turn into the most adorable cat one night every month.”

“I fucking WHAT?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Expect some new characters soon!
> 
> Did you catch who really has a crush on Brian? For a hint, you might want to check Brian's instagram...
> 
> *yes, I know the bi flag was not invented until the late 90's. We'll just pretend that there were more readily available resources for the LGBTQ community pre-Stonewall for the purposes of this au.


End file.
